


The Gratuitous Sex Toy Fic

by sasstasticmad



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Sarcasm, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-12
Updated: 2013-08-12
Packaged: 2017-12-23 06:22:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/923040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sasstasticmad/pseuds/sasstasticmad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony is used to crappy products with his name on it. </p><p>He just wasn't counting on one of those things being a vibrator.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Gratuitous Sex Toy Fic

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this post: http://sarmai.tumblr.com/post/57774699811/6-pieces-of-pleasure
> 
> Assuming interest, there will be more.

There’s been no shortage of crappy products that have Tony’s face on them. Ever since he’s been deemed a hero instead of a socially inept man living out a horribly misguided Batman fantasy, people have apparently been clamoring to buy their very own piece of the Iron Man Empire.

He’d been against most of the merchandising at first. It seemed a little bit too egocentric to want yourself plastered on billboards, just waiting to sell adoring children some brand-new Ironman cola. “Now with TURBO boost.” Whatever the shit TURBO boost is. But just like any other crappy situation, Pepper makes it better. She hires some intern to read through all of the potential endorsement deals, sifting through the scams in order to find the few quality products that won’t sully whatever good is left to the Stark Industries name. Pepper handles the financials herself, making sure any money he would collect goes to the right charity, lest anyone accuse him of being a corporate shill AND an asshole. All he has to do is sign whatever she puts in front of him and scowl a little less than usual when he’s posing. People apparently don’t want to buy batteries from someone who seems unenthused, even if it is Iron Man.

Just as he’s finally getting used to the public’s desire to see him plastered all over freeways and bus stop benches, New York happens. It’s brutal and frustrating, and fuck, he almost dies; but it’s exhilarating. It’s something to do and it’s the first non-Pepper related event in a while that gets his heart pumping.

He’s saved the world from an alien invasion, S.H.I.E.L.D. no longer seems to resent him, and he’s got a whole passel of buddies crashing with him until they’re needed for their own respective hero type dealios; his gig as the corporate shill for Iron Man Cola and other subsidiaries is the furthest thing from his mind.

At least until the newest wave of Iron Man related merchandise comes out just weeks after Loki’s been sent packing.

* * *

It’s a bright and early (eleven a.m. is still technically early) Monday morning when Tony’s slumber is interrupted by the blaring of his cell phone, the saccharine tune of Taylor Swift’s “You Belong With Me” filling the room. Without even looking at the screen, he already knows Clint is calling. Why Jarvis allowed that asshole to pick his own ring tone, he’ll never know; but he is definitely regretting giving out his personal phone number to a glorified Hunger Games wannabe who has yet to learn that Tony does not do mornings.

When he’s finally done yawning, he fumbles with the touch screen without even rolling over, his only reward seeming to be the voice of the world’s most excited man/nuisance. “ Dude,” Clint says, the glee palpable in his voice, “ you need to see what new shit they put our name on.”

“Let me guess.” He replies, hoping his lack of enthusiasm translates over the phone. “Is it another set of IKEA furniture? Because the last round’s Natasha loveseat could really use some improvement.”

“Even better,” Clint says. “ This is the best fucking thing I’ve ever heard of in my entire life.”

“Then it has to be good.” Tony adds, this time only a little sarcastic. Clint’s enthusiasm has only been of this caliber once, and he highly doubts he had another threesome with two Asgardian shield maidens. “Hurry up and tell me, Barton. I need to know what the next thing I sign for a five year old is going to be.”

“We’re sex toys, bro,” Clint says, sounding like a kid in a candy store. “They made Avengers sex toys.”

Any resentment for the early wakeup call is gone as soon as Tony hears the latest shameless advertising using his name. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious,” Clint replies, a hint of smugness in his voice. “Mine has already sold out and according to Amazon, ladies are really digging the Hawkeye experience.”

“I’m calling bullshit on that." Tony says. "Nobody would voluntarily want anything related to you near their genitals.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, my goateed little friend,” Clint teases with what is sure to be a shit-eating grin on my face, “ thousands of ladies, including but not limited to your mother, are paying $49.95 to get the wildest ride of their life.”


End file.
